


Come Too Far

by OracleGlass



Category: MacGyver (TV)
Genre: Gen, Healing, Injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-21
Updated: 2011-12-21
Packaged: 2017-10-27 17:31:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/298288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OracleGlass/pseuds/OracleGlass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-The Widowmaker, Murdoc recuperates and plans his next move.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Come Too Far

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AlterEgon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlterEgon/gifts).



He’s died a thousand times. His body has been broken on rocks, seared in explosions, torn apart in ways that can’t be imagined.

He always comes back. He can’t even say it’s about vengeance anymore, although that’s certainly what he tells himself and anyone foolhardy enough to inquire. It’s simply that he and MacGyver are two sides of a spinning coin, forces aligned against each other. There is no indecision about his burning desire to kill him, only a terrible clarity.

The strange thing is that he cannot picture a world where that desire is not the center of his life. If he finally succeeds, he’s not sure what he would do with himself.

******

He falls for what feels like decades, the air buffeting his body and tearing his clothing. He tumbles, falling through branches and bouncing off jutting edges of cliff. When he lands on a shallow protrusion of rock, he lies there for what might have been minutes, or hours, or perhaps weeks for all he can tell. He’s alive, but barely, and he can’t guess how many bones he’s broken as he hit the earth. There’s a thin trail of blood streaming out of his nose, and parts of him feel very remote, in the way that guarantees bad damage.

His people pick him up. Yes, yes, lone assassin, lone wolf, but there always must be people to drive the vehicles, to help with equipment, to carry things. A frequent part of his job is to lead a team, set them up in a base camp, and then forge ahead to carry out the kill. Only two, this time around - two young men like whippets, eager to learn the trade. They’re marginally more competent than the usual hapless lot, and they arrange for him to be transported, strapped to a backboard, to a hospital five hundred miles away. A large sum of money under the table results in anonymity and very good treatment. The two young men disappear, to be replaced by an older woman, posing as his mother, and a young woman who tells the nurses that she is his very dear sister. She looks nothing like Ashton, of course, but he finds himself grateful that he doesn’t really have to speak with her or feign any sibling affection. HIT remains unaware of Ashton, a secret that requires a great deal of hard work to keep buried. He does his best to keep even the thought of her out of his head, for fear that they might somehow pluck it from his brain.

His “mother” and “sister” arrange for his departure from the hospital (AMA, but another transfusion of cash halts the doctor’s protests), and take him out of the country by private plane, to finish recuperating in a small Swiss hotel that used to cater to tuberculosis patients. It’s now owned entirely by HIT, via a shell company or two. The two women hand him off into the tender loving hands of a cadre of stern nurses with absolutely no sense of humor. They may not be kind, but they’re brisk and competent and he finds himself healing faster than even he would have believed possible. He repays a small part of his debt to HIT by assisting a callow young operative with his elaborate plans to eliminate a South American diplomat. Just as well - the boy would obviously have bungled the entire operation if crucial weaknesses in his plan not been addressed and resolved. How are these youngsters forgetting that a clear line of escape is imperative?

When the elimination is carried out successfully, Murdoc receives a note of praise in his case file and another person to mentor - a lovely young woman whose interests lie more in information gathering than assassination, but who feels that her career requires her to be well-rounded. It’s a nice change of pace from the physical rehab he has to endure, and the young woman is sufficiently grateful (and perhaps a little in awe of Murdoc) to make his remaining time there very pleasant indeed.

Just before he's set to leave the facility, he's intercepted by an unnaturally smooth-faced blonde woman he recognizes from his rare appearances at high-level meetings. They talk in a gazebo out in the middle of a stretch of lawn, where they both have clear 360 degree lines of sight. The woman (who calls herself something bland like Mrs. Smith or Mrs. Jones) makes him an offer: retire as an active operative, and become a trainer. Less time out in the field, more stability, a higher pay grade. It’s a way up the ranks of the organization. She is very persuasive

He rejects the offer without any hesitation. She presses her lips together into a thin line, and suggests he reconsider: after all, hadn’t he noticed that perhaps a bit too much time and effort was being placed (here, her voice grew brittle) into personal vendettas instead of the betterment of the organization? Might Mr. Murdoc want to reconsider this generous offer, which would not likely be repeated?

At his raspy rejection, she had shaken her head, a fond teacher saddened by her student’s bewildering stubborn streak. She wished him well, and was driven away in a black sedan, no doubt already considering phrases for the report she would be filing.

He returns to one of his several anonymous apartments, a tiny yet insanely expensive place in Lower Manhattan, and takes on an easy job in an attempt to look like a dutiful employee. As he lays out the groundwork, he does other research as well. MacGyver is close to a pretty young brunette - an aspiring actress and singer who is the very picture of hapless naivete. He eels his way into a cattle call for a sad little musical that she’s auditioning for, and watches her perkily tap-tap-tapping her way through a dance routine that Cyd Charisse couldn’t have saved. The director cuts her along with a hundred other girls, and she droops like a cut flower.

He goes home. The next day, he picks a supposedly-unpickable lock, stands patiently in a closet for five hours until his mark comes home, and sends him screaming off the balcony. He pulls a previously forged suicide note from his jacket pocket, lays it on the floor, and slips away before the ambulance and police arrive.

He is alight with new plans. Time for a new persona. Over the course of the next two months, Jacques Leroux comes to life. And doesn’t he need a bright young star for his new musical? Who better than the enchanting undiscovered talent, the beautiful Penny Parker?


End file.
